Verbal Diarrhoea

There are times where you spend years dreaming of a country, palace or monument. Some place magical and far faraway. The type of place where unicorns eat straight from your hands; and all the men are taller than you. You trace the outlines of train routes and flight paths, and you memorise the names of unpronounceable cities. You save up oodles of cash and rack up all your courage to make this a reality; only to arrive at your destination and end up disappointed. (Here’s looking at you Eiffel Tower.)

The Victoria Falls was not one of those times. I girly squealed the minute I laid eyes on the falls. The sound, the rainbow, the light spray of water on your skin, was simply too much for me to contain my delight.

The boring stuff

I went to the falls at the end of July, when water levels of fairly low and didn’t feel that it was necessary to hire a raincoat when visiting the falls. I got slightly wet, but the spray from the falls was relief in the heat.

I visited the falls from the Zambian side and Zimbabwean side. The entry fee from the Zimbabwean side was $30 and $20 on the Zambian side. I definitely think that the view from the Zimbabwean side is better.

On the Zambian side, I walked over to the edge of the falls with a guide. There is a warning sign stating that one should only ever walk to the edge with an official guide. There are also jagged, little rocks at the edge of the river to stop people from doing stupid things and walking towards the edge.

As a South African I didn’t have to pay an entry fee to cross over the Zimbabwean and Zambian borders.

I wish that I’d spent more time in Victoria Falls. I wish that I’d done a daytrip to Chobe National Park. (The price I paid for the 15 minute helicopter ride $165 was the same price as a 10 hour daytrip to Chobe. I do not regret the helicopter ride.) I wish that I’d hiked to the very bottom of the falls. I wish that I’d had High Tea at The Victoria Falls Hotel.